Midnight Dawn
by Sutton
Summary: Bethlehem. The birth of the Christ. The adoration by the shepherds. Based on biblical and other accounts.
1. The Birth of the Christ

Disclaimer: I do not own the Holy Bible.

The following borrows from Gospel accounts and the accounts of historical persons who have described these events.

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The Birth of the Christ

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The night sky of the City of David is clear and bright. In the valley, up and down the soft slopes surrounding it, there are many houses... but it is none of these that offer shelter to Mary and Joseph after their arduous journey.

At the end of a row of low damp stables behind the inn, among the ruins of an old building, there is a hole, beyond which there is a grotto, an excavation in the mountain. It is here that Mary and Joseph have found refuge, inside this poor stony shelter, sharing the lot of some animals.

This poor shelter seems to contain part of the foundation of the old building, with a roof, a vault formed by rubble supported by course tree trunks. There is hardly any light, and to see better Joseph lights a little lamp that he takes out of the knapsack he is carrying across his shoulders.

Mary stands near the ox. She is cold and she puts her hands on its neck to feel its warmth. The ox makes a slight sound but does not stir; it seems to understand. When Joseph pushes it aside to take a large quantity of hay from the manger and make a bed for Mary, the ox remains calm and quiet. Joseph then pulls down some spare hay into the lower manger. The ox makes room also for the little donkey that, tired and hungry as it is, starts eating at once.

Joseph discovers a battered bucket. He goes out and comes back with some water for the animals. He then sweeps an area of the ground with a handful of twigs, spreads the hay and makes a bed with it near the ox, in the most sheltered and dry corner. But he realizes that the poor hay is damp. He then lights a fire, and with perfect patience, he dries the hay, a handful at a time, holding it near the fire.

Mary, sitting on a low stool, watches and smiles. The hay is now ready and Mary sits down on it after Joseph spreads it for her. Joseph completes the rough furnishings... hanging his mantle as a curtain on the hole that serves as a door. A makeshift protection. He then offers some bread and cheese to Mary and gives her the flask of water.

"Try to sleep now," he says. "I will sit up and watch that the fire does not go out. There is some wood, fortunately. Thus I will be able to save the oil of the lamp."

Mary lies down and Joseph covers here with her own mantle and with the blanket that she had round her feet while they traveled.

"But you... you will be cold."

"No, Mary. I'll be near the fire. Try to rest now."

Mary closes her eyes without insisting. Joseph goes softly into his little corner, sits on the stool, with some dry shoots for the fire near him.

He turns around now and again to look at Mary, and he sees that she is lying quietly. He breaks the little sticks as noiselessly as possible and throws them one at a time onto the little fire, so that it may not go out and may give some light and yet make the wood last longer.

There is only the light of the fire. The lamp has been put out and in the half darkness only Joseph's hands and face can be seen. All the rest is obscured in the dull dim light.

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Now the little fire is dozing together with its guardian. Mary lifts her head slowly from her bed and looks round. She sees that Joseph's head is bowed over his chest, as if he were meditating, and she sees that his good intention to remain awake has been overcome by tiredness. She smiles lovingly.

Mary sits up and then goes on her knees. She prays with a blissful smile on her face. She prays with her arms stretched out, almost in the shape of a cross, with the palms of her hands facing up and forward, and she never seems to tire in that position. A long prayer.

Joseph rouses. He notices that the fire is almost out and the stable almost dark. He throws a handful of very slender heath on to the fire and the flames are revived. He then adds some thicker twigs and sticks because the cold is really biting: the cold of a serene winter night that comes into the ruins from everywhere.

Indeed Joseph must be nearly frozen sitting as he is near the door, which is really merely a hole where his mantle serves as a curtain. He warms his hands near the fire, then takes his sandals off and warms his feet. When the fire is blazing and its light is steady, he turns round; but he cannot see anything now looking into the dark interior of the grotto. He gets up slowly and moves towards Mary's bed of hay, where she is now prostrate in prayer.

"Are you not sleeping, Mary?" he asks with concern.

She turns around and replies with a gentle smile, "I am praying."

"Is there anything you need?"

"No, thank you, Joseph."

"Try to sleep a little. At least try to rest."

"I will try. But I don't get tired praying."

"God be with you, Mary."

"And with you, Joseph."

Mary resumes her position. Joseph, to avoid falling asleep, goes on his knees near the fire and prays. He prays with his hands pressed against his face. He removes them now and again to feed the fire and then he resumes his ardent prayer. Apart from the noise of the crackling sticks, no other sound is heard.

A thin ray of moonlight creeps in through a crack in the vault and it seems a blade of unearthly silver looking for Mary. It stretches in length as the moon climbs higher in the sky and at last reaches her. It is now on her head, where it forms a halo of pure light.

Mary lifts her head, as if she had a celestial call, and she gets up and goes on to her knees again. How beautiful it is now! She raises her head, and her face shines in the white moonlight and becomes transfigured by a supernatural smile. What does she see? What does she hear? What does she feel? She is the only one who can tell what she saw, heard and felt in the refulgent hour of her maternity. The light around her is increasing more and more. It seems to come down from Heaven, it seems to arise from the poor things around her, above all it seems to originate from within herself.

Her deep blue dress now seems of a pale myosotis blue, and her hands and face are becoming clear as if they were placed under the glare of a huge pale sapphire. This hue is spreading more and more on the things around her, it covers them, purifies them and brightens everything.

The light is given off more and more intensely from Mary's body; it absorbs the moonlight. She seems to be drawing to herself all the light that can descend from Heaven. She is now the depositary of the Light. She is to give this Light to the world.

This blissful, uncontainable, immeasurable, eternal, divine Light which is about to be given, is heralded by a dawn, a morning star, a chorus of atoms of Light that increase continuously like a tide, and rise more and more like incense, and descend like a large stream and stretch out like veils...

The dark smoky vault, full of crevices and protruding rubble, now seems the ceiling of a royal hall. Each boulder is a block of sliver; each crack is an opal flash. The hay from the upper manger is no longer grass blades; it is pure silver wires quivering in the air with the grace of loose hair.

The dark wood of the lower manger is a block of burnished silver. The walls are covered with a brocade of white silk and pearl embroidery. The soil is a crystal lit up by a white light; its protrusions are like roses thrown in homage...

And the light increases more and more. It becomes unbearable to the eye. And the Virgin disappears in so much light, as if she had been absorbed by an incandescent curtain...

...and the Mother emerges.

Yes. As the light becomes endurable once again, Mary now holds the new-born Son in her arms.

A rosy Baby, bustling with His tiny hands and kicking with His tiny feet. He is crying with a soft trembling voice, just like a new-born lamb. He moves His little round head that His mother holds in the hollow of her hand, while she looks at her Baby and adores Him, weeping and smiling at the same time. She bends down to kiss Him not on His head, but on the centre of His chest, where underneath there is His little heart beating for us... where one day there will be the Wound.

The ox, woken up by the dazzling light, gets up with a great noise of hooves and bellows, and the donkey turns its head round and brays. It is the light that rouses them... but it is indeed as though they want to greet their Creator.

Joseph, who was praying so ardently as to be isolated from what was around him, now rouses... and he sees a strange light filter through the fingers of his hands pressed against his face. He removes his hands, lifts his head and turns round.

Mary calls him, "Joseph, come."

Joseph rushes. When he sees, he stops, struck by reverence, and he is about to fall on his knees where he is. But Mary insists, "Come, Joseph," and, holding the Child close to her heart with her right hand, she gets up and moves towards Joseph, who is walking slowly, because of a conflict in him between his desire to go and his fear of being irreverent.

They meet at the foot of the straw bed and they look at each other, weeping blissfully.

-----

After a time, Mary speaks. "Come, let us offer Jesus to the Father," she says... and thus while Joseph kneels down, she stands and lifts up her Son in her arms and says, " On His behalf, O God, I speak these words to You: Here are Your servants, O Lord. May Your will always be done by us, in every hour, in every event, for Your glory and Your love."

Then Mary bends down and says, "Here, Joseph, take Him," and offers him the Child.

"I?... Me?... Oh no, I am not worthy!"

But Mary insists smiling, "You are well worthy. No one is more worthy than you are, and that is why the Most High chose you. Take Him, Joseph, and hold Him while I look for the linens."

Joseph, blushing, stretches his arms out and takes the Baby, Who is crying because of the cold, and when he has Him in his arms, he no longer persists in the intention of holding Him far from himself, out of respect, but he presses Him to his heart and bursts in tears exclaiming, "O Lord, my God!"

He bends down to kiss the tiny feet and he feels them cold. He then sits on the ground, and holds Him close to his chest, and with his tunic and his hands he tries to cover Him, and warm Him, defending Him from the bitterly cold wind of the night. He would like to go near the fire, but there is a cold draft there coming in from the door. It is better to stay where he is. No, it is better to go between the two animals which serve as a protection against the air and give out warmth. Thus, he goes between the ox and the donkey, with his back to the door, bending over the New-Born to form a shelter, the two sides of which are a grey head with long ears, and a huge white muzzle with two gentle soft eyes.

Mary has opened the trunk and has pulled out the linens and swaddling clothes. She has been near the fire warming them. She now moves towards Joseph and envelops the Baby with lukewarm linen and then with her veil to protect His little head. "Where shall we put Him now?" she asks.

Joseph looks around, thinking... "Wait," he says. "Let us move the animals and their hay over here... We will then pull down that hay up there and arrange it in here. The wood on the side will protect Him from the air, the hay will serve as a pillow and the ox will warm Him a little with its breath. The ox is better than the donkey. It is more patient and quiet." So he moves about, while Mary is lulling the Baby, holding Him close to her heart, and laying her cheek on His tiny head to warm it.

Joseph makes up the fire, without economy this time, to have a good blaze. He warms the hay and as it dries up, he keeps it near his chest, so that it will not get cold. Then, when he has gathered enough to make a little mattress for the Child, he goes to the manger and sorts it out as if it were a cradle. "It is ready," he says. "Now we would need a blanket, because the hay stings, and also to cover Him."

"Take my mantle," says Mary.

"You will be cold."

"It does not matter. The blanket is too coarse. The mantle is soft and warm. I am not cold at all. Don't let Him suffer."

Joseph takes the wide mantle of soft dark blue wool, and he folds it and lays it on the hay, leaving a strip hanging out of the manger. The first bed for the Saviour is ready.

The Mother moves to the manger, lays Him in it, and covers Him with the strip of her mantle. She arranges it also around His bare head, almost completely covered by the hay, from which it is protected only by Mary's thin veil. Only His little face, the size of a fist, is left uncovered.

The warmth of the clothes and of the hay has appeased His crying and made Him sleepy. All is silent. Mary and Joseph, bending over the manger, are blissfully happy watching Him sleep His first sleep...

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"Rest your soul in the light of this dawn."


	2. The Adoration of the Shepherds

Disclaimer: I do not own the Holy Bible.

The following borrows from Gospel accounts as well as bits and pieces of historical accounts of persons who have described these events.

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The Adoration of the Shepherds

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The moon is at its zenith over a wide country in a sky crowded with stars. It smiles down from the middle of the huge canopy of dark blue velvet fixed with diamond studs. Streams of light descend from it... and make the earth almost white. The brightness is intense and it is increasing more and more... as if the planet were sparkling because of a mysterious fire.

Intermittent short bleatings can be heard now and again. They come from within an enclosure made up of a thorn hedge on two sides and a low rugged wall on the other two sides. A shepherd appears out of the door of a low wide shed that is supported by one of the walls of the enclosure. Lifting one arm to his forehead to shield his eyes, he looks up. Everything is calm, but the bright moonlight is quite surprising.

The shepherd calls his companions, and they all come to the door. They are a group of men of various ages. Some look as though they might still be teenagers; some are already white haired. They begin to comment on the strange event and some of the younger ones appear afraid...

The oldest man amongst them begins to speak in order to offer explanations, but he stops as they all observe one young shepherd who, now no longer frightened, goes out on to the grassy fold in front of the shed. There he looks up and walks about like one hypnotized by something that compellingly attracts him.

At a certain moment he shouts, "Oh!" and remains still with his arms slightly stretch out. His mates look at one another.

"But what is the matter with him?" says one.

"Is he mad?"

And the old man who had spoken earlier says, "Let us go and see before we judge him. Call also the others who are sleeping and bring your sticks. It might be a wild animal or some robber..."

They go in, they call the other shepherds and they come out with torches and clubs. They join the boy...

"There, there," he whispers smiling, "Above the tree, look at the light that is coming. It seems to be coming on the ray of the moon. There it is, it is coming near. How beautiful it is!"

"I can only see a rather brighter light."

"So can I."

"So can I," say the others.

"No, I see something like a body..."

"It is an angel," shouts the boy. "Here he is, he is coming down, he is coming near... Down! On your knees before the angel of God!"

A long and venerable "Oh!" comes from the group of shepherds, who fall down to the ground. Some appear to be crushed by the refulgent apparition. Some are on their knees, looking a the angel who is coming nearer and nearer...

...and then he stops mid-air above the enclosure wall, waving his large wings, a pearly brightness in the white moonlight surrounding him.

"Do not fear. I am not bringing you misfortune. I announce to you a great joy for the people of Israel and for all the people of the world."

The angelic voice is the harmony of a harp and of singing nightingales.

"Today, in the City of David, the Saviour has been born..."

In saying so, the angel spreads out his wings wider and wider, moving them as a sign of overwhelming joy, and a stream of golden sparks and precious stones seem to fall from them: a rainbow describing a triumphal arch above the humble shed.

"...the Saviour, Who is Christ..."

The angel shines with a brighter light. His two wings, now motionless and pointed upright towards the sky like two still sails on the sapphire of the sea, seem as two bright flames ascending to Heaven.

"...Christ, the Lord!"

The angel gathers his sparkling wings and covers himself with them as if they were a coat of diamonds on a dress of pearls. He bows down in adoration, with his arms crossed over his heart, while his head, bent down, disappears in the shade of the tops of the folded wings.

Only an oblong bright motionless form can be seen for a few moments...

He stirs. He spreads out his wings, lifts his head, bright with a heavenly smile, and says, "You will recognize Him from the following signs: in a poor stable, behind Bethlehem, you will find a baby in swaddling clothes, in a manger for animals, because no roof was found for the Messiah in the city of David."

The angel indeed becomes grave in saying these last words.

But then, as he finishes speaking them... from the Heavens many, myriad, indeed countless angels come down, all like him - a ladder of angels descending and rejoicing and dimming the moon light with their heavenly brightness. They all gather round the announcing angel, fluttering their wings, exhaling perfumes, playing notes in which the most beautiful voices of creation find a recollection, but elevated to uniform perfection.

If painting is the expression of matter to become light, here melody is the expression of music to give men a hint of the beauty of God. To hear this melody is to know Paradise, where everything is harmony of love which emanates from God to make the blessed souls happy, and then from them returns to God to say to Him: We love You!

The angelical "Gloria" spreads throughout the quiet country in wider and wider circles and the bright light with it. The birds join their singing to greet the light, and the sheep add their bleatings for the early sun. As previously in the grotto with the ox and the donkey, it seems indeed that the animals are greeting their Creator, Who has come down among them to love them both as a Man and as God.

The singing slowly fades away, as well as the light, and the angels ascend to Heaven...

The shepherds come back to themselves.

"Did you hear?"

"Shall we go and see?"

"And what about the animals?"

"Oh! Nothing will happen to them! We are going to obey God's word!..."

"But where shall we go?"

"Didn't he say that He was born today? And that they did not find lodgings in Bethlehem? Come with me, I know where He is. I saw them earlier, the man and woman, and I felt sorry for them. I told them where they could go, because I thought they might not find lodgings, and I gave the man some milk for her. She is young and beautiful, and must be as good and kind as the angel who spoke to us. Come, let us go and get some milk, cheese, lambs and tanned hides. They must be very poor... and I wonder how cold He must be... Whose name I dare not mention!"

They go into the shed and they come out shortly afterwards, some with little flasks of milk, some with little nets interwoven with esparto containing small whole round cheeses, some with baskets, each containing a little bleating lamb and some with tanned hides.

"I am taking them a sheep. She lambed a month ago. Her milk is very good and it will be useful," says the shepherd who saw Mary and Joseph earlier.

They set out in the moonlight aided by their torches, after closing the shed and the enclosure. They go along country paths, among thorn hedges stripped by winter.

They go round Bethlehem. They reach the stable not the way that Mary and Joseph came, but from the opposite direction, so that they do not pass in front of the better stables. Instead they find this one first. They go near the hole...

"Go in!"

"I wouldn't dare!"

"You go in!"

"No."

"At least have a look."

"You, Levi, who saw the angel first, you look in..."

The boy hesitates, but then he makes up his mind. He goes near the hole, pulls the mantle a little to one side, looks... and remains enraptured.

"What can you see?" they ask him anxiously in low voices.

"I can see a beautiful young woman and a man bending over a manger and I can hear... I can hear a little baby crying, and the woman is speaking to Him..."

"What is she saying?"

"She is saying, 'Jesus, little one! Don't cry, little Son.' She is saying, 'You are so cold, my Love, and the hay is stinging You.' She says, 'Sleep, Soul of mine! Sleep little one! Sleep my Love... my Son...' and she kisses Him, and she must be warming His little feet with her hands, because she is bent over with her arms in the manger."

"Call her! Let them hear you."

"I won't. You should call her, because you brought us here and you know them!"

The older shepherd opens his mouth, but he only manages to utter a faint noise.

Joseph hears it, though. He turns round and comes to the door.

"Who are you?"

"Shepherds. We brought you some food and some wool. We have come to worship the Saviour."

Joseph smiles. "Come in."

They go in, and the stable becomes brighter because of the light of the torches. Some of the older men push the young ones in front of them.

Mary turns round and smiles. "Come," she says. "Come!" and she invites them with her hand and her smile, and she takes the boy who saw the angel and she draws him to herself, against the manger. The boy looks on happily.

The others, invited also by Joseph, move forward with their gifts and they place them under the manger at Mary's feet with few but deeply felt words. They then look at the Baby, Who is weeping a little, and they smile... moved beyond words...

One of them, somewhat bolder than the rest, says, "Mother, take this wool. It's soft and clean. I offer it to you. Lay your Son in this wool. It will be soft and warm." He offers the sheep hide, a beautiful hide, well covered with white soft wool.

Mary lifts Jesus, and puts it round Him. And she shows Him to the shepherds, who, kneeling on the hay on the ground, look at Him blissfully.

They become bolder, and one suggests, "He should be given a mouthful of milk. There is some milk here. Please, take it."

"But it is cold. It should be warm," says another. "Where is Elias? He has the sheep."

But Elias is not there. He has remained outside and is looking from the hole, but he cannot be seen in the dark night.

"Who led you here?" It is Joseph who speaks.

"An angel told us to come, and Elias showed us the way. But where is he now?"

As they look round the sheep declares his presence with a bleat.

"Come in. You are wanted."

Elias enters with his sheep, embarrassed because they all look at him.

"It's you!" says Joseph, who recognizes him...

...and Mary smiles at him saying, "You are so good."

He does not dare to look at her but he comes in closer.

They milk the sheep. With the hem of a piece of linen dipped into the warm creamy milk, Mary moistens the lips of the Baby, Who sucks the sweet cream. They all smile... and even more so when little Jesus falls asleep in the warmth of the wool...

"But you can't stay here. It's cold and damp. And... there is too strong a smell of animals. It's not good... it's not good for the Saviour."

"I know," replies Mary with a deep sigh. "But there is no room for us in the lodgings of Bethlehem."

"Take heart. We will look for a house for you."

"I will tell my wife," says Elias. "She is good. She will receive you. As soon as it is daylight, I will tell her. Our house is full of people. But she will find room for you."

"For my Child, at least. Joseph and I can lie also on the floor. But for the Little One..."

"Do not worry. I will see to it. And we will tell many people what we were told. You will lack nothing. For the time being, take what our poverty can give you. We are shepherds..."

"We are poor, too. And we cannot reward you," says Joseph.

"Oh! We don't want it. Even if you could afford it, we would not want it. The Lord has already rewarded us. He promised peace. The angel said, 'Peace to men of good will'. But indeed He has already given it to us, because the angel said that this Child is the Saviour, Who is Christ, the Lord!

... We are poor and ignorant, but we know that the Prophets say that the Saviour will be the Prince of Peace. And the angel told us that He is here... and to come and adore Him. So He has given us His peace. Glory be to God in the Most High Heaven!

... And you are blessed, Woman, who gave birth to Him. You are holy to be the one to bear Him! What can we do for you?"

Mary say, "You can love my Son, and always cherish the same thoughts as you have now."

"But what about you? Is there anything you wish? Have you no relatives whom you would like to inform that He has been born?"

"Yes, I have them. But they are far away. They are at Hebron..."

"I will go," says Elias. "Who are they?"

"Zacharias, the priest, and My cousin Elizabeth."

"Zacharias? Oh! I know him well. In summer I go up those mountains because the pastures are rich and beautiful, and I am a friend of his shepherd. When I know you are settled, I will go to Zacharias."

"Thank you, Elias."

"You need not thank. me. It is a great honour for me, a poor shepherd, to go and speak to the priest and say to him, "The Saviour has been born."

"Please say to him, 'Your cousin, Mary of Nazareth, has said that Jesus has been born, and that you should come to Bethlehem.'"

"I will say that."

"May God reward you. I will remember you, Elias, and every one of you."

"Will you tell Your Baby about us?"

"I certainly will."

"I am Elias."

"And I am Levi."

"And I am Samuel."

"And I am Jonah."

They continue to give their names, each one in turn. Twelve names. Twelve shepherds.

Mary smiles. "I will remember your names."

"We must go... but we will come back... and we will bring others to worship Him."

"How indeed can we go back to the sheep-fold, leaving the Child?"

"Glory be to God Who has shown Him to us!"

"Will you... let us kiss His dress?" asks Levi, with an angelic smile.

Mary lifts Jesus slowly, and sitting on the hay, envelops the tiny little feet in a linen, and offers them to be kissed. The shepherds bow down to the ground and kiss the tiny feet, veiled by the linen. Almost everyone is crying, and when they have to go, they walk out backwards...

They see Mary, sitting on the straw with the Child on her lap, and Joseph, leaning with his elbow on the manger as he looks and adores.

They walk out backwards, leaving their hearts there...

---


End file.
